Again.

Today I watched myself.

From a hidden corner I watched as this shell of skin lived.

Perform puppet. Smile on command, raise your eyebrows and feign interest. Move through the day, accomplish this, finish that, start the other.

I watched as “I” moved my hands up and down, extending digits, retracting them. Laying the ridged pads on textures around me and feeling nothing. Disconnected, I peered through my own wet eyes, dulling colors and fading details. Lain aside.

Turn the pages, one by one, take in the words. Black and white impressions that I see when I close my lids, but I cannot ever know what they say. Scan and re-scan, look for the meaning, pretend to invest . . . sleep peasant. Tomorrow is another day.

I watch as my feet lift and lower, planted on the ground, toes splayed - solid. I do not move them. I sit in this darkened corner and I will those ligaments to refuse. Disconnected. They owe me nothing and do not heed my commands.

Chew and swallow. Gnashing teeth, pulverizing what goes in. Over the tongue and down the throat into the gaping blackness. Digest. Make eye contact, show smile lines - say interesting things. Dance puppet.

Motionless motion.

Loss. Disconnect.

Sleep.